


Both Your Houses

by kerithwyn



Category: Fringe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerithwyn/pseuds/kerithwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An uncomfortable summit and a complication.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Both Your Houses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Purpleyin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpleyin/gifts).



> Written for Fringe_Exchange 2013 for purpleyin. Post-"Alone in the World."

Corporal Stephen Wheeler had gone down to Jersey to see his sister over the weekend. Of course her kids were coming down with colds, something they'd picked up the previous week when they went to visit cousins in Midland. Stephen adored his niece and nephew, but it seemed like every time he stopped by, he came back with some bug or another.

This time was proving no exception. Stephen wasn't feeling so hot, but his job involved a lot of standing around and boredom. No reason to take a day off for a slight fever.

* * *

Lincoln was still recovering from his encounter with "Gus" when Olivia got the call from Broyles about the summit. Astrid—looking faintly desperate—offered to take his place, but Walter was in a delicate state, especially after the psych evaluation with Dr. Sumner. Leaving him with one of the FBI minders who occasionally looked after him seemed like tempting fate. Olivia promised to make it up to Astrid somehow and headed down to New York.

On the ferry over to Liberty Island she met up with Agent Broyles, fresh from what she took from his expression to be yet another frustrating meeting in DC. As far as Olivia could tell, the top-secret supervisory committee tasked with overseeing Fringe Division's dealings with the universe on the other side of the Bridge took it as their mandate to second-guess every moment of contact. Broyles dealt with the interference with far more grace than Olivia could have managed, his patience the hard-earned legacy of years of political maneuvering.

Olivia was profoundly aware of just how much aggravation Broyles shielded his agents from, and she was just as profoundly grateful for that umbrella. Over the past three years, Phillip Broyles had saved Fringe Division from closure multiple times, citing results and frankly questioning the capacity of any other agency to deal with the bizarre circumstances of their cases. Fringe Division was still the best option unless the U.S. government wanted to outsource investigations to Massive Dynamic, and no member of the esteemed committee wanted to be responsible for ceding that much authority to a company that already wielded tremendous influence in the halls of power.

Regardless of Olivia's relationship with Nina Sharp, Olivia wasn't blind to the fact that Massive Dynamic's corporate slogan grew closer to reality with each passing day.

The ride over to the island passed in comfortable silence. Neither of them was fond of small talk, and Olivia, at least, was saving her courtesies for the meeting ahead. Granted the exercise with McClennan had gone better than could have reasonably been expected, even considering the professor's unfortunate encounter with his alternate. But for both Fringe Divisions, no good deed went unpunished: success with one operation incited the administration on both sides to demand further cooperative efforts.

Hence this meeting.

The two divisions had traded selected case files and worked up analysis on the similarities and differences. The other side had a significant advantage in their "Lookers," who could evaluate data as efficiently as a computer and still retained the benefit of human intuition. Olivia had refrained from telling Astrid about her alternate, not sure how to frame her observations. With all due respect to their Agent Farnsworth, Olivia had spent the past several nights poring over the files. The other side had been dealing with far bigger events for far longer, but she was justifiably pleased at how her tiny division's record held up in comparison.

Still. She hated this situation, every moment of it. Looking at her alternate just reminded Olivia that they'd taken her from her own home and thrown her in a dark cell while that awful woman—Walter's designation, but appropriate—stole her life along with the pieces of the machine. Olivia had absolutely no doubt that she'd have been killed out of hand if she hadn't been needed as a "counterweight" for the other Olivia's return home.

These were the people they were supposed to play nice with now.

Olivia threw her boss one final sour glance before they stepped out of the scanning chamber and went past the final checkpoint onto the Bridge. Across the room, her boss's doppelganger and her own stood waiting for them.

Out of the corner of her eye Olivia saw Broyles take a deep steadying breath and perversely, that made her feel better. At least she wasn't the only one with misgivings.

Just behind the two alternates, the guard on duty outside the glass revolving doorway swiped a hand over his forehead and leaned back against the wall as if unsteady on his feet. Olivia might have said something, but both Broyles were striding forward with determined looks on their identical faces. In retrospect, her interjection wouldn't have made any difference.

* * *

Phillip Broyles could never look into the face of his alternate without regret.

They had traded enough information—cautiously, warily—to reveal certain personal details. The other Broyles had never investigated the cosmonaut case, and despite the stress of running a much larger Fringe Division, had never let the job come between him and his wife Diane.

The thought of Christopher, just turned thirteen and healthy as any father could wish, kept Phillip from coveting his double's life. At the same time that Phillip had been obsessing over the cosmonaut, the other Broyles and his wife had been praying that their son would be rescued from a serial child kidnapper. The boy was released but had suffered terrible damage at the hands of his captor...and from what the other Broyles hadn't said, Phillip gathered that the boy was dying.

These were the same people, as Dunham correctly pointed out, who'd kidnapped her and attempted to destroy their universe. The fact that their plan failed, with the machine creating the Bridge between two worlds instead of annihilating one, didn't mitigate their culpability. Phillip's sympathies ended where threats to his world began.

It fell to him to play the ambassador, to be the public face on this very private circumstance. Knowing that his alternate shared his discomfort didn't make the job any less unnerving.

But if Dunham could put her personal (and entirely earned) animosity on hold, Phillip could do no less.

* * *

The four of them took seats in one of the conference rooms off the main Bridge space, still in that "neutral zone" between worlds. Right away the other Broyles declared they had no additional information on the new breed of shapeshifters, so as far as Olivia was concerned, the meeting was already a wash. Only Broyles' exemplary stoicism kept her from tuning out, and she resolved to match his professionalism...if for no other reason than to contrast with the colonel's casual wear and her alternate's slouch.

They were just getting started when the alarm went off.

Olivia shot to her feet but the other Broyles put his hand up. "Biohazard warning," he said tersely, and tapped his earcuff. "Report!"

She turned toward her double, glaring. "What is this?"

"That's a specific alert," the other Olivia said, getting to her feet but not looking overly concerned. "Half the time it goes off when someone sneezes too close to a sensor. I wouldn't—"

"Your door guard seemed ill," Olivia interrupted. At Broyles' nod she headed back out into the main room, her double at her heels.

They rounded the corner to see the man just beyond the glass door crumpled on the floor. "Wheeler!" Olivia's alternate shouted, and broke into a run.

Olivia reached the man only seconds later. Her double had already pulled him into the room and was patting him down, feeling gingerly for physical injury with, Olivia had to admit, a fine display of efficiency. "Nothing broken, but he's burning up," her alternate reported. "I guess he's our biohazard. But—" she bit her lip and then shook her head. "We should try to cool him down."

"There's ice water in the conference room," Olivia said, and turned around to retrieve it.

"Towels in the bathroom," Liv said from behind her, and Olivia nodded without looking back.

When she returned her double had the man stretched out on the floor, his head pillowed on Liv's leather jacket. Olivia handed over the wet towels and Liv draped one over his forehead, another over the inside of his wrist. "His breathing's okay, but I don't like this fever."

"I'm guessing there's a specific reason you don't like it," Olivia said quietly, bending down. If this man—a corporal by his uniform—was contagious enough to set off a bio-alarm, she was already exposed. "Do you know what this is?"

"You live with a doctor, you always think the worst," Liv said with a dismissive shrug, but the quip sounded forced. 

During the McClennan case chatter among the other agents informed Olivia that their Agent Dunham was engaged to someone named Frank Stanton. Maybe she'd picked up some useful knowledge. "And the worst would be?"

"Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies." Liv stood, unconsciously rubbing at her hands. "He needs a doctor, but the outside doors automatically sealed when the alarm went off."

Olivia remembered that from the initial briefing on the Bridge. Everyone agreed that neither side could afford a universe-crossing pathogen, though Olivia had never imagined being trapped inside when the alarm sounded.

They went back to the meeting room after moving Wheeler to a nearby couch. Olivia looked everywhere but at her double while the other Broyles relayed what he'd learned. "Bio-sensor filters picked up particles of a contagion and per protocol, we're sealed in until we can neutralize the threat."

Phillip's eyes narrowed. "What contagion?"

"The air's being tested. But initial results indicate smallpox."

Liv breathed out a curse and Olivia felt herself go cold. "The seals on this facility are secure?"

The other Broyles answered evenly. "Yes, Agent Dunham."

Liv tilted her head. "I thought you were immune. I read you don't have smallpox on your side anymore."

Broyles was mirroring his alternate's grim expression. "No. The last inoculations were in 1972. We wiped out the virus in the population through containment, not immunity."

Olivia had studied the disease as part of a segment on bioterrorism at Quantico, after 9/11 made the threat of biological warfare a security priority. The only remaining known virus samples were at two labs at the CDC and a Russian research center, but just in case the U.S. government had stockpiled enough vaccine to inoculate every citizen.

No telling if it would be effective against whatever strain existed on the other side, though.

"We've called in an expert. We're fortunate your fiancé is in town, Agent Dunham." Other-Broyles nodded toward his agent and added to Olivia and Broyles, "Dr. Frank Stanton is one of our premiere experts on contagious disease management. I've arranged to give him clearance for the Bridge."

Olivia thought her alternate didn't look entirely happy about the announcement, but that truly was the least of her concerns.

"We need to ensure our side isn't exposed, no matter what the circumstances." Broyles' voice was quiet but resolved, and Olivia felt entirely certain that if necessary he would call down an airstrike on the entire installation—with them both in it—to keep the virus contained. "For the moment, I'll call in a preemptive quarantine on our side of the facility to ensure no one else tries to enter. Colonel, if you'd do the same...."

"Done. There's nothing more we can do until the doctor arrives. As long as we're here..." the colonel waved a hand toward the table. "Might as well get something accomplished."

A chime sounded just past the two hour mark and they all went to see the new arrival. A sealed biohazard quarantine chute had been set around both doors leading to the Bridge. The one on the other side shook as a man came through and opened the door, immediately heading over to kneel by the guard on the couch.

Olivia and Broyles stood back while their counterparts greeted and briefed the newcomer. Dr. Stanton nodded as they talked, his hands moving with gentle efficiency as he examined his first patient.

Finally he stood and approached them: a tall man, attractive in a blond sort of way, with kind eyes. He was carrying a compact doctor's briefcase and greeted them with calm professionalism.

"Agent Broyles, Agent...Dunham." The doctor's hesitation on her name was brief, but noticeable. "I'll need blood and cheek swab samples from both of you, to compare your antibodies to those I'm familiar with. Our preventatives are effective when exposure is this early, but I don't want to take any chances."

"We can get you our vaccine to compare," Broyles told him. "It's based on a related virus."

Dr. Stanton nodded, his face thoughtful. "Can you get actual virus samples?"

"No." Broyles' tone was flat, absolute. "The remaining virus is sealed away and inaccessible."

The doctor seemed unperturbed. "Hmmm. I'd like to hear more about your eradication program, if possible."

"That we can do." Broyles nodded to her and Olivia was glad for the excuse to step away. Being that close to her doppelganger's lover—obviously curious about her—was becoming uncomfortable.

Olivia found a quiet corner, thankful that cell phones worked from this place that straddled two worlds. "Astrid, it's me. We've got a situation and you'll be getting out of the lab today after all."

* * *

Liv was getting twitchy. Bad enough to be trapped in here with her mirror image glaring daggers, but now Frank was involved. Things had been a little tense between them lately: her job, his job, terrible hours and long absences. Those issues were common to their relationship, but ever since Secretary Bishop sent her to infiltrate the other universe....

Details of her job had always been classified, but Liv hadn't been able to tell him anything at all about the last few months and the tension at home was getting thick. Now it'd followed her here.

She wasn't really worried about the disease—she'd heard enough about Frank's work to know that a vaccine administered this early would protect them from the bug. But the look he'd given her when he came in, wounded beneath his professional armor, that hurt worse than any virus.

* * *

Arranging an emergency caretaker for Walter turned out to be the least stressful part of Astrid's day. That terrifying call from Olivia—

Possible smallpox exposure. It sounded like something out of a techno-thriller novel to Astrid but here she was, on the phone with three agencies at once trying to gather the information and resources Olivia and Broyles needed without causing a panic. One simply didn't _ask_ for a sample of smallpox vaccine, not without reason and forms signed in triplicate. Since both her bosses were trapped on the Bridge, Astrid was having to do an end-run around protocol. 

She called in every marker she'd earned since becoming Olivia's assistant and made promises Agent Broyles would need to authorize in retrospect. She'd barely kept the CDC from descending in force with a blatant lie about an emergency preparedness drill. Astrid prayed that this would turn out to be an equivalent.

Finally Astrid had the vaccines and bifurcated needles in hand (well, lined box) and reams of printed-out information, since it wasn't clear what technologies would function after crossing universes (no point in giving them a device they couldn't recharge). 

When she reached Liberty Island, Astrid wasn't sure whether to be insulted or relieved that she wasn't allowed into the underground facility. A guard would take the materials in and put them in a secure airlock, to be cycled through and picked up on the other side.

Relieved, Astrid finally decided. There wasn't anything she could do inside the facility, and she honestly wasn't upset about missing the opportunity to be exposed to a deadly virus.

* * *

After Dr. Stanton took their samples and basic medical histories, there really wasn't anything to do but wait.

They were, for all practical purposes, in the most ideal place to deal with this particular situation. The Bridge was a closed environment located on an island...and even with the Statue overhead, the entire location could be sealed off indefinitely.

Not an ideal solution as far as Olivia was concerned, but the ultimate decision didn't rest in her hands, or even Broyles'. If nothing else, their counterparts' relative calm and clear faith in Dr. Stanton's expertise helped ease her mind.

By the time Astrid's gathered materials were delivered, the tension was becoming palpable on all sides. Olivia had been willing to grit her teeth and work with the other side to find a serial killer, but there was nothing here to act on in any significant way. Despite the success in the McClennan case she was in no way ready to forgive her alternate for her imposture, and Colonel Broyles had doubtless been fully aware of his agent's mission. Before long the two teams had retreated to the far ends of their respective spaces, with Dr. Stanton in the middle resolutely focused on his task of analyzing the various samples and evaluating them with the aid of networked medical facilities on the other side.

Hours crawled by before he finally looked up from his computer. "Okay, results are in. Take a look."

The four of them crowded in as closely as possible to peer over his shoulders without any chance of the alternates touching each other. Stanton pointed at his screen, filled with multiple windows and streaming various graphs. "There's a lot of technical information here, but what it boils down to is that you're all clear. What we've got is a slightly mutated form of the vaccinia virus—that's the same one in the vaccine your side provided," he said over his shoulder to Olivia. "Ironically, you've essentially gained smallpox resistance by default. You might experience a fever within a couple of days, but it shouldn't be too bad. Mr. Wheeler's dramatic response is atypical—according to his records, his family line is slightly immunosuppressed."

Liv let out a relieved breath. "So, false alarm?"

"Yes, though we'll have to track this variation. Vaccinia isn't typically airborne." Olivia noted that Dr. Stanton didn't turn to glance at his girlfriend as he spoke. 

"We'll be able to verify these results?" Broyles asked, bluntly enough that his alternate raised an eyebrow at him.

Dr. Stanton took the question in stride. "I'll provide the documentation in whatever format you like."

Olivia leaned over to Broyles and said quietly, "Dr. Bishop is standing by in the lab. He doesn't sleep much these days anyway."

Broyles raised his own eyebrow, but nodded. "You and I will remain here until we're absolutely certain there's no chance of further transmission."

Olivia repressed a sigh. "Yes, sir."

He smiled at her, wan but sincere. "Maybe one of the techs left a deck of cards."

* * *

* * *

**Epilogue**

The silence was new, and uncomfortable. It lasted all the way back to their apartment, and then Liv couldn't take it anymore. She glanced over at Frank, offering a smile. "Were you surprised to be called in?"

Frank didn't look over as he said, "Not at first. We'd already been tracking a possible outbreak in Jersey. But when Lincoln told me about the other universe, about those other versions of you and Agent Broyles...."

He stopped, pacing over to the fridge and opening it, then closing it again without pulling anything out. He finally turned to look at her. "It's amazing, something as big as this, and you didn't let any of it slip. Not even a peep that anything was unusual."

Olivia felt her back tighten up. "You know I can't talk about my job."

"No, but you could've said you were having a particularly stressful time at work, I would've been happy to help even if I didn't know the cause." Frank shook his head. "But you don't need me at all. You never did."

It'd be another week before Frank moved out, but they both knew that was the beginning of the end.

**Author's Note:**

> "A plague o' both your houses!"  
> —Shakespeare, _Romeo and Juliet,_ Act 3, Scene 1
> 
> This fic is a direct result of [this not-very-anon prompt](http://purpleyindom.dreamwidth.org/31918.html?thread=1198#cmt1198). ;)
> 
> I'd previously done a bunch of research on smallpox (creepy! probably put me on a watch list somewhere!) for "Lift You Up Over Everything." The disease timeline here is compressed for story purposes; let's assume the variant in the Red'verse has a shorter incubation period.
> 
> A challenge to myself for this fic: I wanted this to slot firmly into canon. Lincoln didn't meet anyone from the Red'verse (except Liv) until "Back To Where You've Never Been" so it made sense to set this early in the season while he was briefly out of commission. Astrid never got to see the Red'verse at all. "Neither Here Nor There" and "One Night in October" mention an accord between universes, and it seems likely that both Agents Broyles were involved in hammering out that agreement previous to the season start.
> 
> Interesting not-a-coincidence: Broyles investigated the cosmonaut and alt-Broyles' son was taken by the Candy Man both "four years ago."
> 
> "Wheeler" is a guard on Liberty Island (Red'verse) in "Back to Where You've Never Been" and "The Consultant."
> 
> We never knew why Liv and Frank broke up in s4, so here's one possible reason.


End file.
